


Desire in Daevabad

by psiphifan



Category: The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty
Genre: Ali is finally not awkward, Canon Compliant, Desire, F/M, First Time, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, Love, Love Confessions, Nahri is bold, One Shot, Oral Sex, Post Book 3: The Empire of Gold, Post-Canon, Repaying Debt, Sex, Single POV, Smut, Spoilers for Book 3: The Empire of Gold, Temple, Vaginal Sex, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26066404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psiphifan/pseuds/psiphifan
Summary: After the war and in the rebuilding efforts, Alizayd al Qahtani is still awkward around Nahri even though everyone know those two are destined for one another. Nahri takes matters into her own hands for a night of fulfilling their desire.
Relationships: Nahri e-Nahid/Alizayd al Qahtani
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Desire in Daevabad

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: While this is an explicit story, there isn't any swearing/explicit langue since I felt like Ali's character is so conservative and he hasn't worked his way up to that. This is a bit toned down from what I've written for Dramione, so I hope you can enjoy it! Many Daevabad Trilogy readers prefer Dara + Nahri, but I honestly fell in love with Ali and Nahri's relationship and think it's a shame that they never got to express their true feelings and fulfill their desire.

Alizayd al Qahtani had slept fitfully every night since they'd rescued Daevabad. He felt like the palace resented him for his family's involvement in the countless acts against its creators and now that there were no Nahids staying, the palace magic was a little spiteful. Not only that, but his connection with the marid often sent him bizarre dreams from his communing. 

And sometimes, they were passionate and sexual -- the latter Ali had repressed for his entire existence as a djinn and whatever he could be classified as now. On top of nightmares from his past, his sleep was never quite restful, as if silent peace was beyond his reach. 

Daytime wasn't much help. Pouring over scrolls and covering himself in ink was exhausting. Not to mention the consistent delightful and infuriating presence of Nahri. They were trying to rebuild the government and the city -- that had been their intention from the start -- but he hadn't realized the true cost of being close to the woman he loved and didn't deserve. Nahri had disguised her disgust and confusion at his new appearance readily, but he could tell that she didn't know what to make of it. 

Ali had been worried he wouldn't be the same, personality-wise, after Tiamat's  deal, but he was the same Ali, just a lot less djinn and much more marid, as if his biology had been reversed.  Nahri was always cautious around him, but she would call him on his awkwardness if needed. They seemed to tiptoe around each other and yet were more or less explicit on how they felt after everything. He thought losing Dara might break her into pieces, but the brave, cunning Nahri was stronger after that ancient daeva left. She was starting fresh without any alliances  or promises, only the unspoken one between her and Ali. He knew he'd never love anyone as much as Nahri just like his brother wouldn't love anyone but Jamshid. 

Wouldn't the bond between the Qahtanis and Nahids solidify everything? It wasn't that easy,  though, because he knew that the other tribes would assume the two previous rulers were plotting against them. It had to appear equal in their new government. And besides the so-called unnatural relationship between Muntadhir and Jamshid -- something he'd previously believed and no longer could the more he saw the two together -- the pairs had to keep a low profile in the presence of other djinn. 

Not that there really was anything to speak of between Ali and Banu Nahri. It was all so tightly under wraps in their hearts and minds that they couldn't free themselves from putting other, more important, things before their relationship.

So, when Ali woke to find himself in the Daeva temple, fire altars blazing around him, he thought it was a nightmare. And yet, it couldn't be. Not when he found himself looking up at the shedu throne, now on display, with Nahri sitting across it as he'd found her a month ago before they'd moved it from the throne room. 

Her eyes were smoldering at him and he realized that as she shifted, she wore nothing under her chador. The firelight both hid and illuminated her curves, her wild curls a plume of smoke around her head. The shadows draped over the apex of her thighs and he thought he could see a triangle of curls there, glistening. 

He swallowed hard and then pinched himself. Ali winced and knew this hadn't been a dream.

"I-I'm sorry... I-I don't kn-know why--"

"I summoned you here, Alizayd al Qahtani," Nahri sighed, sitting up in the ornate throne. The fire threw her body into relief and he noticed the teasing curve of her breasts. 

"Wh-what?" he kept stammering. She must know how insane she was driving him. Nahri was probably getting off on it.

"To settle your debt to me, Ali," she smiled mischievously. He was her mark now, he could tell by that look. 

He frowned. "But you said--"

She laughed lowly and a tingle ran through him at the rich sound. "Not to completely settle, just to cash in some of it, of course."

His sleep pants were loose and would certainly betray the hard desire rising in him soon. The ever-present mists around him were evaporating in the heat of the fire. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

"What do you want?" 

A wry smile made his belly twist in anticipation. "First, I want you to admit that you want me, that you desire me, Ali."

"Yes," he breathed automatically.

"Yes, what?" 

"I desire you, Nahri," he nearly growled, the words being forced from his mouth. It wasn't that he didn't want to say it, but the truth of it burned him. Not if it meant that it would and could never be reciprocated.

"Good. Because I want you to worship me... with your mouth." He gaped at her as she spread her legs as wide as the throne would let her, revealing herself to him in the low, flickering light. Ali instinctively licked his lips.

Nahri whimpered from the throne as he took a step forward as if approaching a wild beast. He knelt slowly in front of her and heard the panting breaths as she burned for him. Up close, her most intimate parts -- the female parts he'd only seen when he'd accidentally interrupted his brother or his brother had sent whores to his room -- reminded him of the soft inside of a clam.

"Please," she breathed to urge him on. 

"You're sure?" he asked, eyes never leaving the treasure between her legs.

"Yes, Ali. I've wanted this--" her words turned into a gasp as his fingers traced along her inner thighs. If she was a wildfire, then he was a tidal wave. His touch was cool and a little slippery, mist rising around them at the contact.

Ali took a closer look at the wonder between her legs, his fingers trying to pry her further apart. A memory that wasn't his, another marid's, was a human woman with her legs over a merman's broad, scaly shoulders, his head moving against her most intimate parts as she writhed above him, the water licking at their bodies. 

_ Creator _ , he thought in pure amazement. Carefully, Ali lifted her thighs one at a time over his shoulders, her womanhood at the edge of the throne's seat. All the better for him to access. He didn't know if it was the lack of sleep or the wish fulfillment, but he didn't hesitate. Ali didn't overthink this for once in his short life.

When his tongue darted out to trace a soft fold beneath the dark curls, he found that she was indeed wet. The glisten hadn't been his imagination. Her arousal was calling to him as he explored her, trying to find the pearl that he was so sure would release her pleasure. This was all instinctual, theoretical, unstudied. 

Her moans echoed in the temple, loudly enough to wake the trapped djinn in their vessels. Nahri's nails scraped against his scalp, his shorn hair not long enough to grab, as he delved deeper into her sweet, salty, dampness. She was hot against his tongue and he found her opening, where the slick was dripping from, and plunged into it. Her legs shook around his shoulders as he felt her inner muscles clenching like a sea snake devouring its prey. He pressed himself further against her, his lower body flush against the ancient throne. The unyielding material created friction for his bursting member in his pants. 

He backed away to her displeasure, opened her up with his hand, and found his prize: the engorged pearl. His teeth tugged at it lightly and he felt Nahri convulse. He sucked the pearl into his mouth and held it as two of his fingers invaded her leaking channel. Her cry was nearly silent as the wave crested and he was rewarded with a flood of her desire pouring into his mouth. He didn't care if she healed the scratches on his scalp, the pain and scars would remind him of this fulfillment. 

She looked delectably boneless on the throne. A Nahid pleased by a Qahtani at her feet. It wasn't like Nahri to be speechless and silent as she gazed dazedly at him. He could feel her spend dripping off his chin onto his tunic. Her taste was like ocean spray: cleansing, refreshing, and heady. It was a perfume he'd wear like a badge of honor. 

Nahri gestured for him to rise and she held out a hand for him. Uncertain, but not unwilling, he put his cold hand in her hot one and helped her stand on shaking legs. They stood together for a minute, both breathing hard. And then, she pushed him onto the seat of the throne where she'd just been pleasured by his tongue. Ali looked at her with shock as she shed her 

chador for him to see her in the glory of the firelight. 

His entire being throbbed for her, to be united with the woman he slowly, maddeningly fell for first in Daevabad and then during their time in Egypt and their journey to Ta Ntry. It didn't matter to him that she was shafit as long as it didn't matter to her that he was more marid than djinn now. They were a perfect combination of Daevabad's future. 

Ali gripped the arms of the shedu throne, his heart twinging at the memory of the seal ring that now rested in Nahri's. It was another thing they shared. He'd been right when he'd said it was pulling to its rightful owner. He wanted to reach for her, but he didn't trust himself to move before she did because he didn't know where he wanted to touch her first: Her firm round breasts with dark pink nipples, the dip of her waist, the gentle slope of her shoulder and neck, or her luscious, smart lips. 

To his surprise, she climbed astride his lap as if riding a horse. He fought to not buck into her hips as she settled like a burning ember on top of him. He was sweating now at the heat of her, the heat of the room, the fog surrounding them. She reached for the hem of his tunic and lightly brushed the hardness jutting upwards. He gasped at the contact and allowed her to peel the damp tunic from his dark, slick skin. Her small, dextrous hands explored the scars of his torso and arms. While he no longer could conjure the flame of his zufiqar, he'd been walking everywhere, swimming in the river along the currents, and lifting heavy scrolls and books. His muscles twitched to reciprocate her warm touches, but he didn't trust himself yet. 

Her hands massaged his corded shoulders and her eyes met his. She didn't shy away from the reptilian yellow-black as most did. After all, she'd seen them a hundred times since they'd changed and he hoped she was used to them. 

"I want you, Ali. I wanted you before I married your brother and wanted you before you asked me to cut the seal from your heart. And before you say anything wrong like you usually do, I'll offer you to walk away if you don't want this, want me, but I think we've been building back up to this moment. And if I didn't do anything, we could have gone decades like this, dancing around each other. Everything still might go wrong, but I've been so scared of losing something I haven't actually had that I'm exhausted from preventing our relationship from ever happening. I love you, Ali and it scares me brainless."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she quieted him with a glare. "Don't say anything stupid, Ali. I swear."

Ali shook his head and thought better of what he'd been trying to say. Instead, he kissed her, first softly and then demandingly. He claimed her lips as she claimed his, moaning as she tasted herself on his tongue. Their mouths dueled like fish competing until they no longer knew who was who. 

"Show me, Nahri," he sighed into her mouth, lifting his hips into hers. Her fingers scrabbled against his shoulders for purchase. 

"Pants... off." She went up on her knees as he awkwardly shucked his pants so they were around his ankles. 

His erection slapped against his stomach as it sprung free. Nahri sat back so her bare butt sat on his thighs and took him into her small, precise hand. He hissed as it took nearly all his strength not to spill himself into her hand immediately. To make matters worse, Nahri pressed herself closer to him, her drenched folds soaking his balls and her soft breasts rubbing against his chest. She kissed near his ear, his sighs of pleasure starting to echo. 

"Let go, Ali. Enjoy my touch and then I'll take you inside of me." After her encouraging words, he spent himself over her hand and all across his stomach. The release invigorated and exhausted him after his member stopped pulsing in Nahri's grip. He softened as the woman in his lap used his discarded tunic to wipe him clean.

"Don't you think this is a little... uh... inconsiderate of your faith?" he mumbled. Her dark eyes flashed. 

"Now you're concerned about my faith?" she teased challengingly. "No need to be chivalrous, Ali. I know you're a virgin--" Ali scoffed uncomfortably. "But we all can't sacrifice everything."

She settled enticingly over him again, the slickness of her arousing him again. A shudder shot through him as she whispered in his ear once more: "I'm sacrificing your virginity to the Creator, to the fire. I'm going to make you feel whole, Ali. After all, I am quite good at healing."

He surprised her by grabbing her hips and rocking up into them. "What kind of medicine is this, Banu Nahri?" he asked teasingly sliding a finger across her wetness. Ali smiled as she shook in his arms.

"A cure for bad timing," she sighed into his throat. "Do you want this, Ali?"

There was barely a war in his mind this time. They'd gone through so much together and apart. This seemed like the next step. 

"Yes, guide me, please," Ali moaned into her neck as her fingers brushed against his hardening member. 

He pushed out the connection to the marid, even though he could feel them clamoring for the show. Ali promised them a recap later, but now he just wanted it to be Nahri and him alone. While it wasn't what he'd pictured as his first time, the scene was quite romantic and sensual.

Nahri started to sink down onto him, her warmth swallowing him, sucking him into her depth like a whirlpool. She moaned into his mouth, their tongues languidly moving together as she took her time sitting down. Ali took in the sensations, overwhelming his expectations. His hands gripped her hips as if she would flee at any moment -- a thief of his virginity.

Her dark eyes were blown wide when her ass met his thighs. "Nahri... You feel... incredible."

She smirked at him, "Wait until we start moving." The thief of his heart winked before she started to swirl her hips. 

He could feel her muscles gripping and expanding around his erection all while lubricating their movements. Her motions weren't like the lush dancers his brother had enjoyed as entertainment at his celebrations, but they were making him dizzy with pleasure. It took him a few minutes to realize that the pleasured sounds echoing in the chamber were his. 

Nahri's fingers dug into his shoulders like red-hot pincers and her body was a small furnace. He felt encouraged to move with her and tested his own movements while inside of her. As soon as he did, Nahri's head fell back and a long wail of pleasure escaped her mouth. Her muscles were clenching around him, threatening to squeeze him to death, but he wanted her to make that noise again, wanting her to fall apart. It felt like it was inevitable as she gyrated on top of him.

Her eyes were heavy-lidded as her face came into view again. A hand left his shoulder to take one of his and deposited it on her breast. It was like a warm satin pillow, so soft in his hand. Nahri gasped as he explored her breast, his thumb brushing over the hard nub. Encouraged, he worked his hips faster and pinched lightly at her nipple. 

She was saying something in Divasti. Something he hadn't learned yet. And then, she started spasming around him. His hips jerked into hers, losing their rhythm, but her babbling continued as he tried not to explode inside her. 

Nahri collapsed against his chest. He could have sworn he heard his name on her lips. Kissing her temple, she didn't stir, content to stay astride him, his member raging hard inside her. On jellied legs, Ali stood from the shedu throne, Narhi's slick coating their thighs. Knowing that her small house was a short walk from the temple, Ali draped her chador over her and summoned his mists to cover them from prying eyes in the darkness. 

She bounced around him, her soft, wetness a balm against the cool night. He hadn't wanted them to fall asleep in the temple, something that would have undoubtedly happened if he had finished inside her there. One of the clerics would have found them in quite a predicament in the morning and he'd probably be accused of desecration, of luring the Banu Nahida into a midnight tryst in the temple. 

He stole into her bedroom and made to set her on the bed. Nahri protested by locking her legs around him tighter. Her dark eyes were molten as she whispered.

"Ali, please. Make love to me here. I want to feel you spill inside me."

He couldn't argue with that and lay her in the middle of the bed, his sword still buried inside of her velvet sheath. Ali shallowly thrusted into her, at this angle a spongy intrusion blocked him from fully sheathing himself in her. Nahri was mewling, her hips canting into his. He tried to ignore the obscenities she was murmuring in Arabic, but they spurred him on. And suddenly, with a tilt of her hips, her feet planted on the bed, he was as deep as he could go. His forehead met hers gently as he hammered inside her. Ali couldn't help it and she was chanting at him to keep going.

Nahri fell over the edge just as his balls couldn't prevent their release. A few more thrusts and he shot his seed inside her as her body convulsed around him. He couldn't be bothered by the fact that they'd probably just woken her neighbors. Ali lay atop her, spent and sated. Her fingers brushed over his scarred back as she seemed content to lie in one another's arms.

A little while later, they were side by side tucked under her sheets. "I have to tell you a secret," Nahri suddenly said, her voice husky. 

Ali didn't want to hear this. "If this is about my brother--" She smiled wickedly.

He groaned and lay back, hands covering his eyes. "He's much more experienced, obviously," she said matter-of-factly and Ali went wild. He jumped on her, pinning her arms to the bed with his hands and her legs with his own. 

"Don't," he warned in Arabic.

"But you're so much bigger than him." Ali's eyes widened and backed off her.

"I thought it didn't matter."

"Oh, it matters, but I'm in love with you, Ali. There's no comparison! It felt and meant so much more to me with you," Nahri explained. 

He blushed, remembering that he hadn't yet told her how he felt. "I love you too, Nahri. I'm sorry for taking so long to say it--"

Ali blinked in surprise as she'd just hit him in the face with a pillow. He was stunned and frowned at her laughing smile.

"You dolt! Of course, I know that. That's why I did all this because if it had been up to you, like I said, you would have been a virgin for a century!"

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think about this one-shot? Let me know in the comments below! I want to keep writing for this fandom and may write some Dara + Nahri fics too. Thanks for reading!


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